Pride
by Katteri
Summary: Tulsa, 1965. Set not to far before the novel, follow Leslie Shepard and her forever twisting and turning life. She isn't to sure what the future holds and she will be surprised. Rating M because I said so. I don't own The Outsiders, however I own Leslie.
1. Chapter 1

GOD DAMN IT BRUCE!" I had awoken to my mother screaming typically at my step-father once again, they had been married for ten years - Since my little sister Angela was two. Everything seemed to start off real good with their marriage. When mom and dad split, mom changed. Every boyfriend she brought over to the house either stole money from her purse, slapped my siblings and I around or drank so much they passed out setting the house a light... Sometimes all three of them things. But when she brought home Bruce, Bruce was real nice - he'd take us to the park and he wouldn't drink! He never even set the house a light once! I liked him real nice.

But nothing good can stay, especially around this house. Bruce and mom were good for a year maybe, before everything started on a down hill slide. He did start drinking - more then just at dinner and on the weekends, he drank all the time, he'd yell at us for the littlest things. One time when my brother Tim broke a glass by accident, Bruce smacked him up real bad and Tim needed stitches - but Tim was only ten.

"SHUT UP MARY!" Bruce returned the yelling just as loudly as she had yelled the first time. I rolled over in my bed, ignoring the springs digging into my back, "BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Tim yelled before something that sounded like a shoe made contact with the wall separating my bedroom with his.

"WHAT'D YOU SAY YOU LITTLE PUNK!" Bruce yelled and I heard his feet pounding against the floor of the hallway, his fist pounding against Tim's bedroom door, probably hitting another crack into it between the holes.

"Forget the sleep." I said to myself, pushing myself up, looking across my small bedroom, that despite being clean still looked dirty, thanks to the several different holes in the wall, the stains and burn marks on the carpet. I rubbed the side of my face, yawning.

Before making my way across the small room that sometimes felt like a jail cell, to the small broken in half mirror resting against my dresser, it was dirty and smudged. Staring back at me were the same smouldering blue eyes that everything within my family [excluding Angela] dawned from our father. Angela took our mothers green eyes.

Maybe I should explain my family a little bit better, for less confusion in the long run. My mother; her name is Mary, she's an averaged height woman with green eyes and curly dark brown - almost black hair, she's heavier set. She never did fully drop the baby weight - at least that's her excuse.

My Father; Timothy besides being an alcoholic, stealing, abusive son of a bitch, who finally ran off with another simple tramp had blue eyes and straight black hair. He was tall and built - at least from what I can remember. And I don't like remembering to much, sometimes I think that he didn't even exist and the hazy memories are just something my mind painted for me.

Bruce; He was tall, heavy set too, blazing brown eyes with black buzzed-cut hair with bad patches, his skin was darker, he smelled like left overs that had been in the fridge to long and cheap booze.

My eldest brother; Timothy Junior, 'Tim' is Eighteen, he's got the smouldering blue eyes, curly black hair that is greased back from shagging into his eyes – the curls kicked out against the back of his neck.

Tim was tall, six feet at least and lean, his nose is kinda bent from being broken twice and he's got a long scar on the right side of his face that runs from his temple to his chin – courtesy of a tramp who used a broken bottle on him.

I think Tim has spent more time in The Cooler [Jail] then all of us, but he never seems to spend more then three months inside. Which I'm thankful for.

Tim also is the leader of the Gang, by the Gang I mean; The Shepard Gang, we're an organized gang on the North side of Tulsa. It started a couple years back when Tim was sick to the high hells of the Socs trying to take over. We've got a few regular people, people you can count on. - There are also several other 'organized' gangs across the North Side of Tulsa but The Shepard Gang is the most organized and the most known, which believe it or not, isn't always a good thing.

He dropped out of school in grade nine, he thought 'This bullshit is a waste of time' tossed his books at a teacher, left and never came back.

There was Angela the youngest Shepard; she was twelve years old and acting sixteen, she was unbelievably gorgeous – personally I believe its because of her eyes, they were emerald green like moms. They'd glitter in the light and twinkle in the darkness. Her skin was flawless – Pale and her hair was long black curly ringlets down her back. Now I would to anything for any of my siblings – But Angela and I never really got along, Angela has the mouth to be considered a North Side. But she's got the attitude and the expectations of a South Side, maybe it was because we never really bonded as kids, maybe because I rarely spent any time with her growing up, but I tend to steer clear of Angela, love her to death but she just, doesn't click with me the way every one else in my family had. Angela still goes to school.

Finally the last sibling, minus myself. Curly, oh Curly. I thought about him, he was fifteen years old and could pass for seventeen or eighteen. He was between 5'7'' and 5'10'' I wasn't exactly sure. His black curly hair seemed to mimic Tim's – long and shaggy, greased back from his eyes and forehead and the curls, they'd curl around his ears and kick out against his neck. I guess Curly would be the second in charge of The Shepard Gang, Curly was rough, he'd pull the blade out first in any situation. Not that we all wouldn't pull a blade or a bottle – but Curly was blade savvy. Curly dawned the same smouldering blues eyes as Tim. [I bet you're sick of hearing that, aren't you?] Curly carried a little extra weight, but he could run just as fast as the track kids. Curly also dropped out of school in grade nine – well actually he was expelled and he didn't object to it.

Then were was me, my name is Leslie Shepard. I'm fifteen years old – if you haven't already assumed, I'm a twin, Curly's twin. I've got the same smouldering blue eyes, the same curly black hair – that brushes my shoulders. I'm not sure how much I weigh, but I know its somewhere between one-hundred and one-hundred and twenty. I'm short to – well short to the people I hang out with, I'm 5'3'', I don't have much of a chest, if you catch my drift, I mean they are there, you can tell, but they aren't the kind you need to hang onto when you're running down the stairs - Mom says I haven't hit my second growth spurt and honestly, I could care less if I do or don't. My skin is tanned from the sun, but not overly.

I dropped out of school to, it's not something uncommon, I was in the middle of my grade ten year, I just got sick of it. Sick of the Socs more like. I don't want to brag but I was smart, a friend of mine says I have both book smarts and street smarts, but the street smarts always over take the logical thinking book smarts.

I guess Tim being the leader of the Shepard Gang and Curly being the second in command to it, I was the third? I mean if I told someone to go into a store and rob it for me, they would, some of them were genuinely scared of me, others I think thought if they didn't listen, Tim or Curly would be pissed, either way. I can hold my own weight, I don't need guys doing my dirty work for me.

I wasn't the proper young lady, people wanted me to turn out to be. I wore jeans and pants, not skirts, yeah girls were allowed to wear pants but it wasn't widely accepted, probably another reason I dropped out of school, because girls HAD to wear skirts. I just wore pants and put a skirt over them.

Spending time in The Cooler was something I'd done but didn't do often, I didn't get caught doing the things I've done, except once I got caught slashing the tires of a police car, got two months in a 'Reformatory' – Which didn't help. I've spent many nights in lock-up.

Because I'm a girl, a lot of people underestimate me, they don't assume I'm as tough as I am, they tend to down-play by abilities, which usually leads to a disappointment on their part. What makes it funny is they underestimate me because I'm a girl, but they jump and beat me up like I was another guy. Sometimes it makes me laugh.

"Y'ALL SHUT UP! I'M TRYING TO FUCKING THINKG HERE!" I felt myself yelling over the voices of Tim and Bruce, turning away from the mirror, listening to the yelling stop for a fraction of a minute, before starting back up again.

Sighing, I brushed my fingers into my hair, looking back to the mirror, I could see the various scars across my arms, I had a lot of different scars across my body, a lot of them from the Socs.

My name is Lieslie Shepard and welcome to my life...


	2. Chapter 2

"Fucking pricks." I said to myself, under my breath, standing on my tip toes and leaning back listening to my back cracking as I stretched. While yawning, tilting my head to the right, I looked out the tiny window within my room, it was sunny and bright, a perfect day, seemingly anyways. Just because the sun was shining and no one had gotten stabbed yet this morning, didn't mean it was going to be a good day. "Come in." I said hearing the rough knock on my door. Standing back on my feet, I watched as Curly came into my room, dressed for the day in jeans and a black t-shirt, "Hey." He tracked across my room, sitting on the edge of my bed.  
>"What's up?" I asked him casually, trying to stop another yawn, turning with my hands on my hips, looking at him.<p>

Being twins, people said they could tell we were twins, because of our facial structure – personally I think they are nuts because when I look at my twin brother, I don't see myself and he doesn't see me either, which I'm perfectly okay with.

As he shook his head, I turned away from him, opening my dresser drawer, pulling out a not so secret stash of cigarettes, bringing one to my lips, I found a wooden match and ran it against the dresser quickly, watching it light, I brought the burning match to the end of my cigarette and inhaling watching it light. Before shaking the match out and flicking it onto my dresser. "You left Lukes party early last night." He pointed out and I could feel him scanning over me.

"Yeah, I know – I was sick of him making drunken advances on me beside his passed out girl friend." I laughed darkly, feeling the morning rush of Tobacco across my body, "that would do it." Curly said nodded, holding his hand out toward me and I took another puff from the cigarette before handing it over to him, watching him take a long puff from it, holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it out in rings. "Mmm, so the next time I see him, I might lay my fist into him, I haven't decided yet." I shrugged, walking to my doorless closet, bringing out a pair of jeans and a tank top.

"If you want, Douglas and I could smack him 'round a few times? You know, so he gets the message." I could tell he was trying to be a protective brother, an older brother as he claimed because he was seven minutes older then me, but at the same time, he was leaving the choice down to me. "Nah, if I do something, I'll do it. I'll let him shake in his boots for a while, he was pretty scared last night when I pulled my blade on him." I felt myself laughing darkly and it made Curly laugh too.

He turned away to face the wall when I started undoing the jeans I'd fallen asleep in last night, as a natural reaction. "Fuck a warning would be nice." His voice was colder now and it made me smirk. "Oh shut up," it wasn't as if I was naked under my jeans, that would be a different story, plus Curly was my brother, I knew he wasn't getting any jollies from me.

I changed quickly, "There, finished." I said watching him turning back to look at me, as I pulled the white fabric of the tank top down over my stomach, "what's the plan for today?" I asked walking over, taking my cigarette back from his hands, taking another puff, flicking the ashes into an empty cup on the mini table beside my bed. "HEY! STOP FUCKING HITTING THE WALL ASS HOLE!" I turned, beating my fist against the wall loudly, as something kept hitting against it from the other side. "SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH!" Bruce yelled hitting the wall again and I felt my blood pressure rising. "COME AND FUCKING MAKE ME, PRICK!" I hit the wall in return.

Fuck seemed to be a widely used word inside the house, the last time I'd called Bruce, Bruce might've been like least year sometime. We all never really stopped fighting, ever. It wasn't exactly a loving house hold and protective services would do nothing about it, because both parents worked and one of the kids were still in school, in their minds, everything here was peaches and cream like.

"Tim and I were gonna rather the Gang, we've gotta get set for the rumble coming up real soon, hasn't been set yet – but I can feel it, in my bones. Something is going to go down." Curly seemed to ignore the screaming between the walls, like everyone else did.

"ENOUGH! ALL OF YOU! YOU'VE MADE ANGELA UPSET! SO ALL OF YOU, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Mom yelled across the house and I felt myself laugh. "Of course, it upset Angela." I rolled my eyes, coming to sit beside Curly on my bed. "You gonna come with us?" Curly asked, his eyes dead set on the door as the knob turned. My own eyes watching the knob turning, crossing my legs over one another. Seeing Tim coming into my room, closing the door behind him, "What the fuck crawled up that pricks ass and died!" Tim commented his fingers toughing the corner of his lip which was bleeding .

Shrugging, I held the cigarette out to Tim, who walked over taking it. His other hand leaving his cheek and going into his pocket, looking over the small bed room. We all had our own bedrooms, but they were all very small, the three of us in mine right now was getting crowed, I looked at Curly, who was watching Tim. "Nah, ya'll have fun with that, I've got stuff to do." I nodded.

"Like?" Tim asked, his voice had changed from a dark and dangerous one to just a dark one. I felt myself looking up at him, narrowing my eyes. "None of your business." I pointed out and Tim broke his gaze from the wall behind me, looking down. Our eyes connecting with each others, "I said like?" He cocked his head to the right. "And I said, none of your business." I crossed my arms over my chest.

I felt the need to annoy Tim, no one ever refused to answer Tim's questions, especially honestly. But I on the other hand, liked to annoy him. I think it really ticked him off but at the same time. I believe he enjoyed it. "Leslie." He said sharply. "Timothy." I said in the same voice, mocking him. I watched his eyes getting darker, Tim hated being called Timothy and half the time, he hated being called Tim. It reminded him to much of our father – someone Tim didn't want to be like, but was turning out exactly like, it was like a disease, there was no way of stopping it from happening.

"Where you getting off to?" Tim kept a serious voice and I laughed, "I was going to visit Steve and Sodapop – like I do EVERY day." I sometimes wondered if Tim had memory loss from all the beatings. "Oh." He kept his voice rather cool, "okay." He passed the cigarette to Curly.

"What's this I hear about a rumble happening soon?" I watched Tim, "oh, just getting ready for it, there's," he paused, sniffing loudly, "something in the air, just a precaution, you know..." Tim nodded and I laughed at him while standing up, brushing my hands down my jeans. "Right, precaution." I now nodded, walking toward my bedroom door. "Better make a move. We've upset Angela." I laughed mockingly.

"Oh, poor Angel." Tim said in the voice I had just used, a mocking one. I left my bedroom heading into the washroom to brush my teeth.

At the kitchen table, it wasn't hard to tell who was favoured by mom and Bruce, Angela sitting between the two of them, mom handing her five dollars and telling her to have a good day with her friends, kissing her on the cheek. Before looking up at the three of us – her other children who hadn't bothered sitting down. Her eyes narrowing at us like we were scum that grew in unwanted places, but we were use to it. "Can I help y'all?" She asked her voice calm and soft but the undertone of disgust wasn't easily hidden.

"No." I spoke before Tim and Curly could, knowing full well they'd make a snide remark to start another fight that hadn't exactly finished, just calmed down, like a Volcano awaiting to erupt again. "Then?" Mom asked awaiting for a good reason as to why we were standing by the kitchen table.

Curly rolled his eyes. "Pff." Escaped his lips, he turned away, pulling his shoes on quickly, unlocking the dead bolt on the door. "Nothing." I said darkly, my shoes all ready on, looking up at Tim who reached across the table, his hand hovering over different things before picking up his car keys without a word.

"You best have money for gas boy, 'cause I sure as hell aint lending you noting!" Bruce cracked up the first can of morning beer, taking a long sip. "Believe me, I'd rather ask a Soc before asking your help." Tim snapped darkly. Before turning, pushing me forward to move, I caught myself from tripping and I headed out the door after Curly, listening to Bruce snap something at Tim who stopped in his tracks on the front porch, that shook under three peoples weight – it was rotting wood, three feet off the ground that would soon cave in on itself but no one cared enough to replace it.

"Don't, he's not worth it." I touched Tim's arm, making him look from the door that he'd closed to me. He had the look in his eyes that he wanted to kill that man, but nodded, walking down the stairs quickly. Curly all ready inside Tim's car. "You wanna ride?" Tim jerked his thumb toward the car.

"No thanks, I'll walk – it's not THAT far." I pointed toward the long dirt road that led to the DX gas station. "You gotta blade on you?" Tim scanned across the dry grass as if he was expecting hidden Socs to appear, "Naturally." I reached into my pocket, taking out a red handled blade that would snap open in seconds revealing a five inch sharp blade. "Good. I'll see you later." Tim nodded and I slide the blade back into my pocket.

"Be careful!" I called after him and Curly, but I laugh was all I got in response, rolling my eyes, I headed up the road, playing kick the rock. I could see the DX sign in the distance. It made me laugh – for what ever reason, I wasn't sure yet.

The sun was hot, it was going to be an extra hot day and the fact it was a Friday. It was going to be long, take ages for the day to wear on. But it was something you got use to, like being jumped – it was a regular thing to happen.

As the DX got closer, I kept looking around for cars, not just any type of cars but fancy cars that didn't needed a lot of work, that would hang out near the DX waiting and watching for Greasers to stroll by. The dirt turned to a pavement and I looked around, the door being held open by a milk crate and a rock on top of it, letting what ever breeze there was.

"Nice bum, where you from?" I felt myself ask with a smirk across my lips, seeing Sodapop bent over a car, he froze, turning his head to see who was talking to him, he laughed seeing me, turning to stand up straight, grabbing a rag from beside him, cleaning the grease from his hands. "Leslie, whats up?" He grinned, that utterly flawless grin.

"Nothing, came to visit my favourite Gas Station attendant." I laughed, "Did you forget a shirt this morning?" I looked down, his blue DX uniformed shirt was unbuttoned and his tanned chest exposed. He looked down, "Possibly." He smiled now, putting the rag down once his hands were clean.

I came to lean against another car, "Where's Steve? Isn't be the grease money?" I cocked his head to the right and Sodapop nodded. "Doesn't work 'till noon."

"Leaving you all by your lonesome? I fend for yourself?" I gasped, dramatically making him nod seriously. "Mmm-hmm." He glanced seeing a car pulling into the station. "One second, don't go anywhere." He pointed at me and walked off quickly toward the gas pumps. ",'Cause I planned on running off when you weren't looking!" I called after him, leaning back.

Even though Sodapop wasn't apart of the Shepard Gang, he was a real good friend, one of the best friends anyone could ask for. Fun to hang out with, I'd known him for several years, he dropped out the same year I did – for different reasons naturally. Sodapop being the good guy, dropped out to work full time here at the DX to help pay for the bills and I dropped out because I felt like it.

"Sir Sodapop, of DX." I had pulled myself up on the hood of the car beside the one Sodapop was working on, when he'd returned from putting the cash into the register. "Duchess Leslie of car hood." Sodapop beamed, adjusting his baseball cap.

"How's everything?" I asked him, leaning back against the windshield. "Everything? It's... " Sodapop paused, thinking about it, trying to fine the right words. "Darry's okay, you know ... It's Darry. Ponyboy's you know... Ponyboy." He laughed after a minute.

"Oh that is really helpful, Soda." I laughed with him.

"Well!" He lent across the hood I was laying on, "I guess you'll just have to come over more, to see for yourself, wont you?" He grinned. I nodded. "Maybe so, maybe so..." I kept looking into his eyes, I loved his eyes, the dark brown that held so much wild and happiness despite everything Sodapop's been through.

"How about tonight?" Sodapop caught me off guard, "Tonight?" I asked him, blinking carefully, incase I hadn't heard him right.

"Yeah, tonight, like you know... After I finish work, tonight."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Thanks Soda, but I know what tonight means." I snickered. "So, how 'bout it? Everyone else is coming over – we've not really seen you in a long time, only glimpses." He pointed out factually.

"Everyone else?" I raised my eyebrow, "oh well if EVERYONE else is going to be there, I guess I better make a special appearance, huh?" I watched Sodapop nodding quickly. "Exactly." He went to laugh from froze, his eyes watching something behind me. "Wha...?" I asked trailing off, turning over on the car to see a Blue Mustang heading up the road with a cloud of dust behind it...


	3. Chapter 3

As the Mustang and the cloud of dust grew closer to the gas station, I felt myself slide off the cars hood I'd been sitting on, casually leaning back against the fender, twisting my head to the left and right listening to the cracking noises to follow. "Oh what a way to start a morning." I stated while clearing my throat, voice calm. Remembering I had a blade in my pocket – which I wouldn't take out unless things started to get bad.

Sodapop turned his head, looking around the empty gas station except for himself and Leslie, biting the corner of his lip, he scanned the ground for a stick or a bottle, but there was nothing. He tried not to show his small panic as he slouched over, adjusting the DX baseball cap so it wasn't as pulled down over his face and finally sliding his hands into his jean pockets. "Wish Steve was here." Sodapop said calmly.

He knew if Steve had been around, he wouldn't have felt as anxious. It wasn't the Socs that completely made him anxious, it was the fact, he was at work, a job he couldn't get fired from. The boss didn't like when fights broke out on his property, but he understood. The boss himself was from the North side. But that didn't stop him from swearing until he was blue and red in the face when they did happen.

"Oh thank you, what am I?" I cocked my head back, looking over Sodapop, my tone half dangerous and half calm, blank even. "I didn't mean it like that – I meant..." He trailed himself off once the blue Mustang pulled off the dirt road into the station, silence filled the air.

Watching the doors that didn't open for what seemed like a long time, until finally the driver side door open and the passenger side door, two people getting out, three other people in the back seat unmoving, watching, burning holes into my skin, I swear.

"Can I help you?" Sodapop asked in the politest voice he could mange, looking them each in the eyes for a moment, keeping professional for as long as possible. "Well that depends, grease." Bob – a tall moronic Soc who seems to always be drunk because its 'cool.' said after getting out of the passenger side. "On?" Sodapop continued, in his slouched stance.

I kept watching carefully, my eyes watching the three in the backseat, just incase they decided to get out. "On whether or not you are going to cooperate." Randy interjected. "With what?" I finally felt myself ask, making Randy, Bob and Sodapop looked over at me, a sickish grin had appeared over Bob's face.

The rings he wore gleamed against the ever rising mid-morning sun, it wasn't any secret that nearly three and a half months ago, Bob was the one who had beaten the crap out of Johnny Cade – a member of Sodapop's crew, I would never class Sodapop and his group of tight knit friends as a gang, because they weren't, they were a group of friends who stuck together, they had no leader.

Johnny Cade was the second youngest member of that group, he was sixteen years old – but he looked so much younger, his eyes were dark, black. His skin dark too – and not from the sun. His jet-black hair always greased back, but it was long, long enough his bangs covered his forehead and eyebrows. He was average height – still growing. Skinny but strong.

Johnny had never been a 'get into a fight for the sake of getting into a fight' kind of person. His parents were bad, badder than mine. They'd beat on Johnny all the time and Johnny would never beat back. At least if my mom or Bruce hit me, I wouldn't think twice about laying my fist into either one of them.

But than I also had two older brothers who would always protect me, like I would always protect them, Johnny; well Johnny had no one to protect him. Except his friends who knew better then to get involved in what happened behind the Cade house walls.

Johnny had never blinked an eye when his old man would rag on him, he'd never cry either. But that once time, when we found his limp body in the vacant lot on the corner of the block. You could barely tell it was Johnny, his face so badly beaten, tears streaking down his cheeks and blood spattered his clothes. I thought he was going to die in Sodapop's arms.

He told us about the Soc who's laid into him, how he wore rings, lots of rings that were heavy. It didn't take long to find out it was Bob Sheldon – who not only bragged about his success in beating down a Greaser, who mind you was twice as small as him and probably a foot shorter – you can imagine how Bob left that detail of his story out.

We vowed revenge against the Socs. We always vowed revenge, one day – one day soon at the right place and the right time. The Socs and Bob, were going to pay. They were going to pay for turning Johnny Cade into someone who looked like a dark lost puppy in a crowd of strangers, into someone who jumped at their own shadow and into someone who now carried a six inch blade around in his pocket for protection.

"Well." Bob stepped closer to Sodapop and I lent off the cars fender into a standing position, I didn't slouch like the guys did, I was short enough as it is, I didn't need to look shorter, my eyes narrowing quickly. "It wont hurt as bad, if you don't run when we beat you down." Bob still had the sick grin across his face, the three other people getting out of the back of the Mustang.

I took a half-paced step back, trying to keep a straight and serious face, my hands lingering near my pocket when Randy advanced with Bob. "GET 'EM!" Bob yelled at the three people behind him. Sodapop ducked out to the side before Randy could catch hold of him.

I felt my breath leaving my body when I landed back against a car, David holding me down, his eyes full of darkness, "Hey Greaser." He smirked now, his arm against my chest, his body pressing against my legs, keeping me down.

I twisted quickly, trying to push myself free. I heard the sound of shoes scuffing against the pavement and Sodapop hissing. "Fuck off!" I snapped at David, twisting my head and spitting at his face, "Bitch!" David brought his fist against my cheek.

When my face stinging, his grip not as tight anymore, giving me enough room to push him back off me, almost falling off the car, "You're going to pay for that!" David snapped, grabbing onto my ankle, pulling it out from under me, I braced for the rough landing against the pavement.

"GET LOST!" Sodapop's yell was dark and dangerous from the crowd of Socs a few meters away from me, not only did my face sting now but my knees did too, "let GO!" I pulled my leg, trying to free it, but I brought it back, hitting David in the face, "TRAMP!" David covered his face and I turned over, reaching into my pocket quickly, pulling out the blade, I felt the sun disappear as David stood up, looming over me.

"BACK OFF!" I snapped, the blade flipping open, the sharp edge catching a ray of sunshine unblocked by David, the metal shimmered.

David stayed frozen, unmoving, his eyes watching the blade as I stood up, keeping the blade out from myself, the same loose yet firm grip on the handle that Tim used, that Curly used. A Shepard trademark. Taking a step forward David stepped back quickly. "Take off." I warned him darkly, but he froze, he looked behind him for a split second when Randy yelled in pain.

I took my chance, jumping forward, pushing David off quickly, sitting on his chest, the blade against his throat, "Pl...Please." David squeaked, any bad ass he had inside him had disappeared not that he didn't have the upper hand.

Five people against two, seemed like they'd still have the upper hand, the problem being the two people they were up against didn't need a crew behind their backs to protect them – though it would've been nice. It wasn't needed. "Oh, so how you start being polite." I hissed, feeling him swallowing roughly the blade still against his neck.

Closing his eyes, David could feel the cold steel again his throat, he kept swallowing dryly. He didn't want to start crying, not in front of a Greaser and surely not in front of his buddies. He was tough – except he wasn't at all. He squeaked when Leslie brought her fist down against his nose, sending a wave of pain over him, he curled over onto himself as Leslie stood up.

"BACK UP!" I yelled, dangerous, the four people around Sodapop. Randy sticking his head up, smirked, but the smirk disappeared when David was on the ground behind me squeaking in pain and the blade in my hand.

I saw Sodapop's fist connecting with Randy's jaw, making him step back, cussing loudly. Bob turning around to face me, "Awh, that's real sweet, little bitty Greaser with a tiny little blade." He mocked his, his voice as girly as possible and I didn't much like it. "And yet, here you are – shaking in your boots!" I spat.

Bob came close to me, I didn't move, I was keeping my ground. "I don't think so, dirt." He brought his fist up, I moved the blade, "Try it." I offered him one chance to feel like an big guy. He seemed to ignore me. "LESLIE!" - Caught my attention, distracted me, Sodapop's voice. "SODA!" I managed before once again I was back against the ground, Bob over me.

"Get bent." I said quickly, moving my hand, the blade catching the side of his cheek, digging in, before he slugged me the back of my head hitting against the pavement. The blade escaping my grip. "Dirty whore!" Bob hissed, the thin line against his cheek started to fill with blood. He picked up my blade and turned it against me.

Everything was blurred, my head pounding but I couldn't give up. If I gave up it would be like letting them win and winning I would not let that happened – over my dead body. "I'll teach you to fuck with me, grease ball." His voice was chilling, his lips against my ear, the blade now against my neck, but I felt his other hand, his free hand on my thigh.

Looking down at the girl Greaser, Bob felt nervous, though he wasn't letting it show, keeping the blade to her neck, the only way to keep her still, his brushed his hand against the denim of the Levis jeans. The intentions he was meaning were clear but inside his own head, everything he was thinking kept scattering around.

"NO!" He listened to her snap, struggling against him, despite the blade to her neck. "SHUT UP!" Bob yelled, the blade pushing deeper into her flesh, making her still, her smouldering blue eyes closing for a moment.

Bob remembered once, he saw those eyes that were just blue – no smouldering within them. That was years ago, primary school years ago. But like Tim and like Curly the smouldering came. After the beatings, after the fights, the time in the Cooler. Now there was nothing but smouldering blue ice.

Reopening my eyes, my body felt heavy and tired. Bob's face blurring worse then before, I could feel the blade digging into my skin. "Fuck off!" I said but stopped, the blade disappearing from my neck, replaced by a hand, the air escaping my lungs.

There was no way I was going to die like this, not yet. I struggled, I moved as wildly as I could, my free hand crawling at his face, but the hand refused to let go, motion became slow, like time was stopping, I grabbed at Bob's hair, pulling it, before dizzy kicked it.

Everything went black...


	4. Chapter 4

Everything had been so peaceful inside of my head – in the darkness and the numb. I couldn't feel anything and I wasn't sure I wanted to, I'd been knocked out several times before - that wasn't the issue, but I had never felt like this before. But then; I had never been choked into passing out ever either...

Close to it though, one time when I was thirteen my fifteen year old ex-boyfriend [current one at the time.] was real drunk and he came over when no one else was at home.

He pushed me up against the living room wall and started to put his hands around my throat, I remembered it like it was yesterday. I was cold towards it. Alex got kneed in the balls and punched in the nose before Curly came home and took him outside.

Alex never came 'round after that – I'm pretty sure he moved away from Tulsa. So I assumed our relationship was over – not that I cared, he sucked at being a boy friend and I sucked at caring. I mean he use to flirt with girls in front of me to piss me off and I just kind of stared unmoved at his actions.

But I wasn't the best girl friend in the world either, that was a different story for another time though. I never felt emotions the way people should feel them – at least I don't think I did. I feel anger all the time, anger is a good emotion to keep around, I guess I feel the other emotions too but not really.

Unwillingly and slowly the darkness became lighter and lighter into a redness, I'd zoned back in from where ever I had been.

The sun shining down against my face, I turned my head slowly, the aching reappeared, except it was all over my body, "Quit it..." I groaned feeling someone shaking me, at least I assumed someone was shaking me, unless I was moving myself without realizing it. "Leslie's alive!" A voice echoed through my head, making me squeeze my eyes tighter closed. "Shut up..." I murmured.

"Shoot, sorry kid." The voice I could finally make out clearly without a ringing in my ears spoke, fuck. I knew I had to open my eyes, I didn't want to but I knew I had to. Because if I didn't I'd look like a wussy.

Pealing them open, the sunlight hit directly and I closed them again groaning, "Ugh, fuck.". Trying again, I shifted my head, rolling onto my stomach, opening my eyes to stare at the pavement that was spattered with blood. "You okay?" Someone was touching my back and it made me tense for a minute – remembering the Socs that had been around however long ago. "Fine." I gritted my teeth, pushing my head up and over to see Steve.

I exhaled, "Steve." I tried to grin at the seventeen year old grease monkey. But even grinning was painful. Nothing I wasn't use to. I moved to push myself up, feeling Steve's hands on my shoulders keeping me up when I stumbled. "I'm good, I'm good." I pushed myself clear of him after a minute.

The sharp aching in my skull and the sore sensation every time I tried to swallow was the worst of my battle wounds, "Come sit down, Soda's getting the first aid kit." Steve brushed his arm around my shoulders, leading me into the dim gas station, sitting me down on an old chair.

I exhaled, bringing my hand to my face, rubbing it. Brushing some of my hair away from my face. "How bad do I look?" I wondered, looking up at Steve while absently pulling my jeans up over my legs and passed my knees, seeing them raw and skinned from landing on the pavement.

"Could be worse." I could tell it was bad when Steve was trying to tell me it could be worse. "Oh well, what can you do." I laughed musically, it didn't bother me – the wounds that was. It was the Socs who gave them to me that bothered me.

"Tough." Steve nodded, crossing his arms over his chest when he looked over me to Sodapop. Holding the white first aid kit.

"Okay, Sodapop?" Steve questioned him, I turned in the chair, ignoring the protesting feeling in my body. Looking up and down over Sodapop I could see his left eye was red going purple, dried blood was dripped down his chin, a cut on the centre of his lower lip and a long scratch on the side of his left arm. "Fine." Sodapop grinned but it was a weary grin.

"Glad you showed up when you did though." Sodapop nodded looking at Steve who looked awful thankful to. "Old man and I got into a fight." He shrugged his shoulder like it was nothing, like if he hadn't shown up Sodapop and I could've handled everything.

"No, not at all." I snickered but stopped, covering my face I coughed rough, "Prick, I'm going to make him suffer." I rubbed my throat, I could still feel Bob's hand against it, shaking it off. "Soon, we're gonna stomp ass!" Steve stomped his foot against the floor for kicks.

"Yes Steve, thanks for adding the stomp in there," I brought my foot down against the floor in a softer stomp mincing him, making him laugh. "Did you like that?" He asked stomping again and I nodded seriously. "Oh yes, very cool." I grabbed a band-aid from the first aid kit, standing up.

I pealed it from its package and stood up on my tip toes in front of Sodapop, carefully watching him, I could feel him staring at me with a 'what are you doing?' expression on his face. "And... There." I nodded after sticking the band aid against his forehead carefully. Making him smile. "Oh thanks." He laughed.

"I need a smoke, you've got no idea how badly, I do." I could feel my body craving the tobacco, fishing around between my jean pockets, pulling my pack out, surprised they hadn't been squished during the fight – if you could call it a fight.

Bringing the unfiltered cigarette to my lips, I could almost tasted the flavour of a new cigarette, bringing a wooden match across the wooden counter it lit, bringing it to my lips. I inhaled, shaking the match out.

The head rush the cigarette was giving me turned the sharp quick pain in the back of my head into a dull and short pain, flicking the ashes outside the gas station door, I kept to myself for awhile as Sodapop and Steve went back to work on the cars in for repair.

The day wore on without any more appearances from the Socs, I walked around the station a lot. Unable to keep completely still for long periods of time, walking into the bay of the garage attached to the side of the tiny store.

Pulling myself up onto the deep freezer filled with bags of ice and extra ice cream treats supply. The pain inside my body had subsided, Steve was arm deep inside the hood of a car and Sodapop was out back talking to Sandy his girl friend.

"What did you and the old man fight about today?" I felt myself asking before thinking turning and laying back against the freezer that sadly was not cold on the outside, turning my head to the right to watch Steve pause in his tinkering under the hood, turning his head to the side a large smudge of grease on his cheek.

"School." His voice was bitter like he was remembering the fight clearly, Steve's old man was kind of a bastard. They'd get along okay since Steve's mom took off a while ago with his little brother and sister but old Matthew Randle was a lazy bum who made his money on boot-legging to under aged Greasers and salvage car parts. Didn't attend school past grade five.

"Still aint to keen on you going back?" I asked but figured just as much, his dad wasn't to happy with the fact his son only worked part-time at a gas station while getting an education. He wasn't pleased about the education part at all. "Nupe." Steve's voice was cold.

Being Seventeen and managing to not fail any grades Steve was in the middle stage of his last year of High School. Passing Auto Shop with flying colours and getting by with the rest, he wasn't all there in the head, but he wasn't stupid neither.

"I don't see whats the big deal, I mean – he's not like he's paying for anything, better yet. He doesn't have to DO anything." I pointed out factually, still watching Steve who was nodding reaching across to a wrench.

"Big deal 'cause he aint gettin' extra money from me 'cause it aint the summer no more. Full time back to part time." His voice rough, putting the wrench down a little to hard causing a loud tinging nose when he stood up straight from being bent over.

Shrugging and moving my head to look at the metal rafters above me. "Your money anyways, not his." I yawned, feeling a bump on the back of my head pushing into the freezer, I ignored the pained feeling. Distantly you could make out Sodapop's voice and Sandy's.

Sandy was nice, usually... Sometimes she was a bitch too, especially to me. I don't think she liked that I was friends with her boyfriend or that I knew she was a two timing little tramp fucking around on Sodapop, even Steve knew it.

But we refused to tell Sodapop who deep down knew something wasn't right but chose not to bring it up. Eventually it would go down hill and I'd have no trouble jumping Sandy and putting her in her place afterwards.

",'Bout time to go, you still coming over?" Steve was leaning over a sink that was blackened from grease, soap making suds over his worked hands. "Yup." I turned over, sitting up and getting off the freezer. "Haven't seen ya'll in a while." I laughed.

"Ain't nothing gone and changed on you don't worry." Steve dried his hands with a clean rag, before walking over pulling the garage door closed and locking in with three different padlocks on the floor.

Laughing, I left the bay area looking outside to see if any cars were at the pumps, before turning the sign to 'closed.', kicking the wooden door stop away from the door letting it close, I turned the lock on it.

We'd always leave the station from the back door, I never really understood why, but we did. Sodapop never could explain why either, he said he does it because the people who use to work there did it and the people before them people. It turned into a habit.

"Bills out back, he's coming in to do the books." Sodapop came back in, he wore a white t-shirt under his mid-way buttoned up DX shirt now, I cocked my eyebrow and titled my head at his neck. "Had fun out back?" I suggested with a smirk.

His eyes going large, he froze on the spot before clearing his throat, his hands covering the sides of his neck that dawned lipstick smears. "Shut up." He said quickly, turning and disappearing into the washroom.

"Hahaha!" I laughed at him, Sodapop though you think would have a tad more class than that, did not. He was probably one of the least innocent people in that department, possibly worse then Dallas Winston.

"Hey Leslie." An older voice caught my attention from my laughing at Sodapop, turning my head I smiled. "Hi Bill!" I gave him a quick wave.

Bill was tall, dark and tough. He was older then he looked and he'd owned this DX Gas Station since what seemed like forever. "How're you?" He put down a stack of books, he'd tell you once and he'd tell you again. Hiring Sodapop and Steve was the best economical choices he'd ever made.

"Oh real good, you? How's the wife?" I felt Steve coming in from the bay standing behind me as he closed the door. "Great, great." Bill nodded while picking up a pencil. Putting his glasses on that he needed to wear all the time but refused to.

"We're gonna head out?" Steve more asked then told, the wall clock read six o'clock, luckily we still had some summer sun on our side and it wasn't that dark yet. "Mmm-hmm." Bill waved him off when Sodapop came from the washroom.

The three of us walked in a side-by-side position kicking a crushed can back and forth while talking and laughing. We'd not spoken a word about the Soc fight, especially to Bill. Who seemed to be in a good mood and no one wanted to spoil it.

"Awh, I can't wait to see all the gang again." I tried to sound mystical when I spoke. "Almost all of the gang." Sodapop corrected and I stared at him for a minute like I didn't understand but finally clicked in. Snapping my fingers to gesture like I'd remembered.

"Oh yeah, Dallas." I almost smacked myself in the forehead and Steve started to laugh so I naturally had to give him the middle finger before grinning.

Dallas – definitely the dictionary definition of a hood, was in the Cooler and he had been for nearly two and a half months, expected in for at least five months for assault with a weapon against a minor. Personally I didn't understand the charge because Dallas was a minor too, so why did the 'against a minor' have to be included?

"How do you forget about Dally?" Steve turned his head to me, we were all walking in the same brisk pace it seemed and I couldn't help but shrug.

"Because it's Dallas." - Or Dally, for what ever reason I couldn't take to the nickname Dally. I tended to call him Dallas through-out the years I'd known him.

And I had known him for three years, since I was twelve. He was fourteen, his old man and him moved down from New York, I hadn't heard much about him except he'd been jailed at the age of ten and got out a twelve, I didn't mean to but I crossed him when he was blazing angry and I thought for sure he was going to cuss me out and give me the beat down of my life. He tried, but Tim caught him by the back of his jacket and punched the daylights out of him before he had the chance... Ever since then Tim and Dallas had been real close friends, they were indeed two of a kind.

"I'm nervous, what if they don't like me anymore?" I tried to sound worried but I ended up getting strange looks from Sodapop and Steve when I laughed, walking up the steps of the Curtis house.

"Your dreams have all come true, I have arrived." I announced opening the screen door and walking into the living room where everyone seemed to turn and stare at me...


	5. Chapter 5

"Awh shit I don't believe my eyes!" Two-Bit stood up from the floor quickly a bottle of Bud beer in his hand, Mickey Mouse proudly dawned on the front of his blue muscle shirt, rust coloured side burns sticking out farther than ever, I couldn't help but wickedly grin. "Might be 'cause you're drunk?" I suggested while stepping over a pillow taking Two-Bits extended hand, pulling in close to him and patting him on the back with my free hand, manly hugging him, despite you know... My lack of man parts.

"Leslie Shepard, I haven't seen you since you were knee high to a grasshopper." Darry poked his head in from the kitchen door frame, his voice serious – always serious. But I didn't blame him to bad, Darry was twenty years old, acting about forty. He was the eldest Curtis brother of three, Sodapop and Ponyboy being the other two.

When their parents died in a Auto wreck a while back, Darry took over. Staying back from college to look after Sodapop and Ponyboy so they didn't get put in a boys home. His eyes were pale blue and icy cold always looking determined, like no other emotion spread through his body. He was tall to and built like a brick house.

I turned with my hands on my hips looking up at him. "So last week." Darry nodded factually with a small smile that seemed half forced and half real and I couldn't help but laugh. "Short joke, REAL funny." I said sourly but not meaning be, before plopping myself down on the centre of the couch between Ponyboy and Johnny.

I felt Johnny jump slightly and I felt a little bad. "Shoot, sorry Johnny." I lent back, looking over him. A large scabbed scar still across his left cheek. He only nodded partly and didn't speak, he kept looking forward vision unfocused toward where Darry had once stood but now disappeared.

"Maybe he saw you last week, but I haven't seen you in a month!" Ponyboy turned his head, looking at me and I sheepishly grinned. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that." I rubbed the back of my neck carefully and let out a tiny laugh. "Busy you know."

"Busy, with what?" Ponyboy's eyes looked questioning, always thinking – though apparently not according to Darry. "Oh you know, nothing." I laughed again when Ponyboy rolled his eyes a cigarette between his thumb and index finger burning over an ashtray filled with various other butts.

Ponyboy was the youngest and it bugged him real bad, he was only freshly fourteen years old but his greenish grey eyes – that he claimed were grey because he hated a lot of green eyed people, were older then fourteen, they showed an experience – forced to grow up before he should've that to – but that was life on the North side around the age of seven you started growing up and by the age of ten, hell son you were basically an adult.

His hair was tuff, light brown and kind of red depending on the way he stood in the sun. He wasn't short but he wasn't all either and he was skinny – could run like a wild horse though.

There was something calming about sitting in the Curtis' living room, with the gang around. I hadn't spent time with everyone for a long time, truth be hold. I wasn't doing nothing – I was just doing things that I liked to keep a secret and sometimes I just liked to be alone.

"So how is the Shepard life?" Two-Bit asked like it was a bad thing to be a Shepard and I narrowed my eyes quickly. I hated when people made stubble under lying comments about my Surname. I knew Two-Bit didn't mean it that way at all but a lot of people did.

"S'good, real good." I lied smoothly, being a Shepard had nothing to do with it, though the cops sure loved to kick down the front door and search the house for Tim, Curly and myself when things went wrong or when Dallas did something wrong and was being hided. That was what being a Shepard had to do with it.

The rest? Well that was just plan North Side hood, that's what it was. "Tim ever get in trouble for that car set on fire in the city hall parking lot?" Ponyboy turned to glance at me again and I shook my head, "Nah – wasn't him." I said pretty damn sure it wasn't my brother who'd set that car on fire.

"How can you be so sure?" Ponyboy tilted his head to the side, trying to read me like a book of many words and I couldn't help the grin that had came across my lips. ",'Cause." I sat up straighter on the couch minding Johnny who was now looking at the T.V. Screen though the sound was turned all the way down.

"You seem so sure." Steve stated sitting on the floor, his back to the T.V. Looking at me while holding a deck of card shuffling them to keep his hands busy. "I am." I interjected still grinning.

"How come?" The low and clear voice of Johnny Cade actually made me jump, not expecting a peep out of him, turning my head to look at him for just a second before looking back to everyone else in the living room, "Because, I set the car on fire." I snickered evil-like covering my mouth and Ponyboy gasped.

"Nu, way!" He didn't believe it but at the same time he completely believed it.

"Ah, hell Pony its not that exciting." I pointed out, "I've done lots more exciting stuff then that – besides the fat prick who owned that car deserved it." Nodding now I remembered Mister Chambers, he was a lawyer – a lawyer to the people who couldn't afford a lawyer. But I think he had some deal worked out with the state or something – 'cause every time he'd defend me or any other JD they'd toss us into the Cooler right away.

"Golly..." Was all Ponyboy said looking away as the T.V. Volume went up, Two-Bit sitting front and centre as Mickey Mouse started to air, "Awh hell." Two-Bit slapped his knees excitedly. The beer half empty beside him.

The Curtis house was nice, sure it wasn't in tip top shape or anything but it was real nice. It reminded me of the family they had before their parents had died.

Any other house with three teenaged boys and two dead parents wouldn't have lasted a week – hell, my mom and step-dad were alive and I think the only thing holding up our one story house on a cement basement foundation was luck... If that even existed.

Sitting in the couch sunk into it, watching half the screen of Mickey Mouse over Two-Bits head for the next hour was worth it, I had spent time with the gang I hadn't fully seen in a long time. "That was beautiful." Two-Bits emotional range didn't change as the show came to an end the credits rolling.

I started to slowly clap, while watching Two-Bit turn and look at me with a silly drunken grin. Several more empty beer bottles had gathered in a pile beside him on the floor.

Mushroom soup smell filled the house, naturally homemade and my the smell and the clinking of bowls onto the kitchen counter. I felt the urge to leave and not impose on the Curtis' supper. I knew they wouldn't mind if I stayed but I still never liked imposing – besides that and I wasn't really hungry despite having not eaten all day except a cherry popsicle and a bottle of Coke.

Feeling pretty sure my body was use to little sustenance I suppressed a small yawn and sat up, "Shit I better be goin'." I saw the clock reading eighty-twenty-five. "Awh, really?" Ponyboy turned his head looking at me while I nodded, closing my eyes and yawning the yawn I couldn't suppress any longer and I heard him kind of gasp.

"Leslie, what happened to your neck?" He asked quickly and I felt all eyes on me, even Darry putting down some silverware and leaning against the door frame, my hands going to my neck, unsure of what he meant for a moment before swallowing and realizing. "Oh, that." I laughed casually trying to divert attention from it.

"Gawd' Damn Socs." Steve said leaning over a chair with a cigarette in his mouth, Sodapop leaning back against the wall casually looked at Darry whose expression changed. "Socs." Johnny said in a squeak.

"No biggie, came 'round when Soda and I were hanging out, no harm done." I tried to defuse the growing tension now inside the living room against the Social class. I glanced to Johnny who was touching the scabbed cut on his cheek, remembering the last time he was jumped, nervously.

"Like Leslie said, no biggie we handled it and Steve showed up." Sodapop could see a darkness growing within Darry's eye and I stood up. "Okay, well..." I fixed the white tank top I had worn only now realizing there was a patch of dried blood near the bottom, I shrugged to myself.

"Yeah, better get going to." Johnny stood up, pulling his jean jacket on over his black t-shirt and I pulled my package of cigarette's from my bra. Two-Bit raising his eyebrow and I blinked. "What?" I asked quickly, putting the smoke between my lips.

"Self-Storage." Two-Bit smirked glancing down to my chest, which in all honesty I probably didn't need to wear a bra. I could get away without one and no one would be the wiser, but I tended not to wear jackets unless I wanted to look real hood and I felt strange not wearing one. So my bra was the best storage unit. "Exactly." I lent down beside Steve who'd flipped his lighter open for me and I inhaled the cigarette lighting up.

"You wanna stay for supper Johnny?" Ponyboy looked up from a school book and Johnny went wide eyed for a minute, "No, thanks." He sure to hell wasn't at ease but he was more at ease around his friends then anywhere else, no one really blamed him though.

"Promise not to disappear for months this time?" Ponyboy averted his eyes to me and I couldn't stop another laugh when I opened the screen door. "You know Leslie Shepard well enough to know she don't make promises, Pony." I pointed at him with my cigarette between my fingers and he seemed to nod.

"Fair deal." He whispered and cleared his throat, his hands brushing down his sweater that zipped up. "See ya'll around!" I gave a general wave and was met with various forms of good-byes. Before stepping outside, holding the door for Johnny who came out after me. The night air was warm but also crisp when the wind blew.

Walking down the steps and flicking ashes off onto the ground. It wasn't completely dark it was more moonless and midnight blue with a selected amount of stars scattered across the sky. I turned my head and Johnny was staring at me, I raised my eyebrow. "Yeah?" I asked him casually and his eyes bugged up again before getting smaller. "Nothin'." He quickly came down the steps and walked a few meters ahead of me and I shrugged it off.

With Johnny in front of me I stared at the back of his head for a second, something about Johnny... I couldn't exactly place it or explain it well – I'm not so good with expressing my feelings when it isn't beating the tar outta someone.

"Well," when I spoke he jumped turning his head halfway back to look at me from the corner of his eyes like he'd forgotten I was behind him, "see you later Johnny-Cakes." I slipped past him and out the open Curtis' property fence.

"I..." He brought his hand back into his jet-black hair. "Later, Ell." - Shortening the name Leslie to Les or Lee was common but it seemed Johnny called me Ell on a time-to-time bases.

With something flickering in his eyes I asked him; "Want me to walk you home?" in a very light tone. Not one implying he wasn't capable but one that understood even if his house was up the street and around the corner he was still scared stiff. "If you want." He half shrugged, keeping casual like nothing was bothering him.

Seeing through the mask of his words, "lets go." I held my smoke out toward him and he took it, inhaling a long puff from it as we started up the street together in a very casual hanging out kind of pace.

We walked in silence but it wasn't awkward. I don't know what kind of relationship I had with Johnny but it was one where silence could be long running without being awkward – I liked it real nice.

The lights were off in Johnny's house except for the porch light, Johnny had flicked the butt of the cigarette away across the road and turned to glance at me. Before turning away and walking into the house carefully.

Finding myself standing outside I lost tack of time waiting for something but unsure of what. I shrugged to myself and cleared my throat, putting myself into gear. Heading home after slipping my hands into my pockets.

I froze in the middle of a step, my blade – was no longer in my pocket. I turned around looking down like it could've dropped on the ground behind but I knew better. "Awh fuck!" I cursed myself. I hadn't seen it since this afternoon after getting into it with the Socs.

Alone in the middle of the night I was walking unprotected and I was unmoved by it. I was just less protected incase I met a red Corvette or a blue Mustang. Though I did find myself walking back home a little quicker then I had originally intended.

I liked to walk in the night time, especially when it was getting warmer but not to warm.


	6. Chapter 6

_Notice: I thought you guys deserved the right to know, weekends are a time when I am full-time working [two twelve-hour shifts] so I will try to get at least **one** good four-five page chapter up [usually what all chapters are] during Saturdays and Sundays. Luckily this Saturday is my day off! YAY!_

_Seconds notice: I wrote this chapter on my iPhone so it may not be as exciting to read._

Houses sure looked different at night, very different but I could still make out every detail about any of them, if that didn't tell you I'd been around the North side a few times on a tour I have no idea what would.

The long road that connected the neighbour-hood Ponyboy, Johnny and the rest of that group seemed to live in and the almost middle of no where neighbour-hood where I lived together was filled with pot holes and a very deep ditch that was filled with muddy water.

The houses around my part of the North side were very scattered, not right next to each other. But there was a lot of us regardless. I looked across the street from my house and I could see a house. Though not many people lived to live around the train tracks.

Which mind you was the Shepards gangs favourite hangouts, the ally-ways near the tracks, we had them, they were ours. The Curtis group [Dunno why I called them the Curtis group but it did seem to fit very well as they did most of their hanging out there and they weren't a gang so they weren't officially named.] had their vacant lot and Brumley had whatever they had – didn't get along so well with Brumley but they were okay to have during a rumble.

Beat the crap out of one another once and a while but backed each other up in a rumble with the Socs, why? Because we shared the same thing, a hate – no it was more then a hate. It was a passionate twisted disgust for the Social class South side.

"Oh shit!" I hissed to myself before catching myself from tipping into a pot hole, ones eyes could only adjust so much to the darkness to see where they were attempting to go, so pot holes did sneak up on you once and a while.

My eyebrows knitting together as I paused mid-step on the dirt road looking forward at my house – not my house but the police car outside of it. Lights flashing, everything seemed to slow motion itself. For a minute remembering the number of times police cars showed up at my house and upon remembering fully my eyebrows un-knitted themselves and I headed across the grass of our lawn, Bruce being escorted from the front door in handcuffs, typical.

Tilting my head I listened his words slurred into one giant mess with salvia dripping down his lips. Stumbling forward being kept up only by the two officers who looked stone face – unpleased about the situation and from the shadows on the side of the house I could hear them, "Shepards." A disgust in the taller officers voice.

"Mmm-hmm." The other officer seemed to agree opening the back door and pushing Bruce down into it, the door slamming and the officers getting back into the driver and passenger sides.

Something bad that bugged me, because Bruce wasn't a Shepard, Bruce was a Lachance. There was no blood relation between the Shepards and Bruce and mostly anyone who got it mixed up or just said it to be a piss off ended up with a broken something.

Inside was a smash and yelling muffled by the walls. But it was my mother, I wondered what had happened this time.

The Fuzz never got called out here willingly, usually because mom couldn't handle a drunken Bruce slobbering all over the floor when they got into a fight or he said something to piss her off, pushed her – a fight taken to new extremes. The usual really. It wasn't a proper week if the Fuzz didn't show up 'round my place without arresting someone.

",'Kay so..." I felt myself saying as I walked into the font door completely ignoring my mother sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of cheap red wine and a cigarette in her hand as her make-up smeared her face and I looked at Curly who'd been standing up by the window watching the police car drive away with the lights off now.

Curly, Tim and I might've been the blood and DNA of our mother but that seemed to be where it ended. Curly would take any excuse to throw a punch a Bruce and it wasn't because he loved mom and he wanted to protect her it just gave him an excuse.

Mom would hit any of us any chance she got, Bruce would do the same. The three of us siblings wouldn't hesitate on hitting them back either. Except Angela – dear sweet Angela who never had a finger laid on her, her entire life.

When Curly's eyes caught mine we seemed to exchange silent words, words as if to say the usual happened a drunken Bruce and mom got into it, bringing it a little to far until it wasn't just a typical fight anymore.

"Was it a knife, screwdriver or what this time?" My voice darkened listening to my mother sob and it didn't darken for her sympathy it darkened because I was sick of the bull shit the two of them would get into. Half kill each other one evening, get back together the next and be partly decent to each other before the down hill slide started again and repeated itself each and every week.

"Knife." Curly's eyes going to the rusting dull steak knife laying on the floor between the living room and kitchen transition. Keeping my eyes from rolling I nodded. "Original." He pointed out and I nodded while walking across the living room to the hallway. Toward my bedroom, ignoring my mother hissing cruse words at me for being an ungrateful brat.

"Whatever you say!" I turned my attention to the back of her head and watched her grip on the bottles neck tighten. I felt like she wanted to start something and before she could I walked into my room. I was tired.

Tired enough I barely noticed Tim laying on his stomach asleep on my bed, "The fuck!" I pulled my shoe off and threw it at him watching him open his eyes real quick. "Leslie!" He snapped and I crossed my arms. "Get out of my bed!" I pointed toward the door.

"Uncalled for and abusive." Tim called and held onto the sneaker I'd thrown at him moments ago possibly to annoy me even more.

Lazy prick, couldn't walk two more feet to his own room? Suppose I couldn't blame him 'cause I'd fallen asleep in his bed when I was to lazy to shift my ass to my bedroom. "Heard you got into it with the Socs today." His eyes closed again his voice drifting off again and I pulled my other shoe off bringing it into a tossing position targeted at his face.

"So?" I dropped the shoe to the ground of my bedroom floor and walked across to the broken mirror the room was dark except for a tiny bed side table lamp. I tilted my head up, eyeing down at the red mark around my neck – it seemed to be the most visible mark of today's happenings when the Socs.

Turning with my mouth open to talk to Tim, I stopped myself before I started closing my mouth. Tim had fallen asleep again and I exhaled my fingers brushing against my forehead, how much longer were the Socs going to think they ruled the North side? Not very if I had anything to do with it.

"Fuck it." I put my arms up into the air for a minute before walking across the few paces of space between the bed and the dresser and I climbed over Tim without touching him and sat down on the free space beside the wall.

Twisting I laid down, my arms under my head as a pillow and I closed my eyes. Slowly but with an ease drifting off to a darkened sleep without dreams...


	7. Chapter 7

When you live in a place like I do; with the same things happening day in and day out you'd expect the days to blur together – and they do. But at the same time they don't because when the same things happen it feels like you're living the same day over and over again without realizing the sun rising and setting each and every day. Though the things that seem to repeat everyday didn't happen at the exact same time and place – so it was an even mixture of blurred together and not-blurred together ... If that even makes sense? I don't really know.

But the next two weeks sure felt like they blurred themselves together into one very long and very rough day. The days were getting darker earlier, the nights getting colder. Everything was changing very quickly without warning.

The Social class were starting to come deeper and deeper from their territory into ours – while we respected the invisible line that separated the South and North sides – they didn't. We'd find their Mustangs and Corvettes driving down our streets whenever they felt like it. Didn't matter if it was night or day.

There was some places that were called mutual areas – places that Greasers and Socs could come on to and off of whenever they pleased – didn't stop fights breaking out in them, but it was nothing we could call a turf war over because no one owned that turf.

Like the drive-in/movie theatre. Both kinds could go there without crossing lines or the towns centre anyone could walk up the sidewalk.

But the Socs were starting to pollute themselves into the North side and none of us liked it. Last Wednesday Curly, I and some of the outfit found a red Mustang parked inside our train track ally ways and we had it out with the five Socs inside.

They left but they came back the next day and the next day, there wasn't an hour that seemed to go by without a fight breaking out – or something happening. Greasers didn't walk alone anymore and if they did they had a blade with them.

I hadn't found my blade either so on Friday Two-Bit who might I add had a very good and slick talent for shoplifting just about anything went to the hardware store with me.

The two of us had walked around near three hours looking at random pointless things neither of us needed or could afford and he lifted me a blade that was almost the near twin to his own. Black handled and a butterfly blade, except where his blade was ten inches in length and his prize possession that he used to show off and scare people with [he carried a second one that he'd be more willing to cut up someone with.] Mine was five inches, not a prized possession and I wouldn't hesitate to cut a person with it.

Two-Bit and I got along, we were bold in the shoplifting department the two of us managed to make off with half a store inside our pockets without being caught – we overloaded ourselves on junk-food for the next two and a half days.

Inside the washroom with a towel that I started rubbing my hair with to dry it I kept staring at myself in the mirror amazed two weeks had past by all ready it was crazy. Putting the towel down on the sink the red mark that Bob had left against my neck had faded off days ago.

I turned around to the wooden shelf built into the wall, I'd all ready put on my underwear and bra so now I pulled my jeans from the shelf and unfolded them pulling them on. They were pre-teen boys jeans, I didn't like girls jeans because they belled out at the bottom and actual jeans for men didn't go down enough in size to fit. Perfect is what these jeans were fitted in all the right places though I needed to roll them up a few times so they didn't drag under my shoes.

Them along with a black t-shirt and white socks made for the perfect outfit – not that I was going for top fashion. With my damp hair I left the washroom, putting the towel in the hamper just outside the door I B-lined it for my bedroom.

Pushing some things out of the way, finding one shoe and them the other. Black converse, neglecting to untie the laces I just pulled them on and rolled my jeans up to shoe off the shoe, the shoe that if you wore you were poor. Personally I liked them.

"Smokes." I looked around for the package before finding it and putting them on my left sleeve. Rolling the fitted fabric over them twice so my package of cigarettes were incased in fabric as my shoulder. Slipping my matches into my pocket and my blade into the other.

It was mid afternoon and heading into evening, spending most of the day sleeping was very pleasurable and so was waking up to the afternoon sun.

I had, had no plans today or intended on having any and yet I still got up and got dressed like I did. Even if it was going to be nighttime very soon. Listening carefully to the front door opening and closing and the sound of foot steps I wondered if that was Tim coming home from being missing in action for the last two and a half days.

Speaking of missing in action I hadn't seen Curly for a day and a half, slightly normal enough I didn't feel the need to rush out and panic but I felt worried because of all these Soc crap happening around lately.

The twin instinct I had was telling me there was nothing to worry about, I'd know if something had happened to him, so I let it be.

"Hello?" A voice called across the house, I tensed that voice wasn't Curly and it sure wasn't Tim. Bruce, mom and Angela had taken off to town this morning leaving me alone.

I left my bedroom and I took the hallway carefully, I hadn't registered the voice to a name or a face, my hand inside my pocket with the blade and the other on my hip when I rounded the corner to the full view of the front door, my eyes widened. "Jesus Christ! What are you going here!" My hand left my pocket when I exclaimed at them.

"Hello to you too." They grinned Devilishly at me and I narrowed my eyes, feeling like my personal space had been invaded in some kind of way while looking up at Dallas Winston. "When did you get out of the cooler?" I knew he had at least two months left on his sentence.

"Out early, good behaviour." He strolled across from the door sitting down sprawled out onto a couch. "Somehow I doubt that." I kept an even tone. I had been alone with Dallas Winston several hundred times before that wasn't the problem.

The problem was every time we were alone I remembered the very first time we were alone, thirteen and fifteen years old. Over at his place 'cause Tim thought I needed protection after a deal he'd been doing went sour and he was going to deal with it.

It was raining all that day and into the night the rain never let up, I lost my virginity that nigh to Dallas. But actually I didn't. I'd lost it before when I was eleven to someone else unwillingly but I never spoke about it, I'd pushed that memory so far back into my mind to forget. I claimed Dallas was my first time.

Tim wanted to knock his head in a year later when he found out but never actually followed through. The world of sex was something people learned young out here too. A lot of people especially Greasers lost their virginity by the age of fourteen.

Most of the girls were squeezing out a child by fifteen and married by sixteen, unless you were – you know medically unable to have children. If I believed in luck I'd say I was lucky not to have gotten knocked up the times I'd have sex and I know this'll make me sound easy and cheap but I had sex with various people just to say I'd had sex.

Didn't mean I had to like 'em, just meant I was board and wanted something to do. But I hadn't had sex in a few months. A lot of other things had been on my mind, I suppose that was it.

"What you saying I'm not good?" Dallas seemed amused with the subject of him being good, everyone knew that was the last thing Dallas was.

"Exactly what I'm saying." I brought my leg over the back of a chair and slide down onto it, crossing my legs over Indian style, sleeping all day I swore made you want to sleep more. "Good." He nodded approvingly and the silence set in.

Twiddling my fingers against the arm of the chair, I coughed into my shoulder wishing Tim or someone else would show up. Because the longer I sat with Dallas the more I realized I didn't like him, not sexually at least. He was an okay guy, decent to hang out with but not very attractive – might've been from the number of ugly greasy girls he'd stuck his – up.

"Gotta smoke?" His voice broke the silence and I didn't bother with words just rolling my sleeve down taking my pack out I tossed it at him, catching it he took out one and found a match in his pocket, lighting it off his necklace. "Thanks." His edged voice still cold.

Shrugging I uncrossed my legs, putting them on the ground and yawning.

"If you haven't guessed Tim isn't around." I felt the urge to tell him just incase he suspected he was busy and would soon appear, but Dallas nodded. "I figured, I ain't that stupid." He pointed out flicking ashes into an empty beer can.

"No, just partly that stupid." I whispered and heard him hiss making me smirk up at him. "Bitch." He snapped and I laughed now. "Best you can do is Bitch? Really..." I kept laughing and he smirked this time.

"Been 'round to see the gang this afternoon, Socs jumped Ponyboy when he was walking home from the movies." Dallas sat up onto the edge of the couch, sniffing. Readjusting to the life outside the prison cell once again.

"What?" I sat up properly, looking at him with large eyes. "Is Pony okay?" I felt an anger rush across myself and Dallas nodded quickly. "Yeah, we all showed up. Gotta slice on his neck from a blade but he's good." I could feel Dallas looking at me when I looked forward out the living room window.

"Oh, good." I nodded rubbing my forehead. "Real good, lucky y'all showed up." I tagged on and stood up stretching. "We've gotta get revenge on the guy who got Johnny now that I'm out, man." He inhaled the cigarette holding it with his thumb and index finger.

"You're right we sure do." I pointed at him with a nod to agree. "Real soon." It seemed Dallas had a personal vendetta against Bob. He always did but it seemed to get a lot greater after what happened to Johnny.

"Anyways man." He stood up looking around and I had walked over to the fridge taking out a bottle of beer twisting the cap off, the cap tinged against the floor as it rolled away. "Probably should go, gotta lot to do." He coughed into his jacket.

"Mmm, going to see Sylvia?" I wondered after taking a long sip of the beer in my hand and Dallas nearly scoffed, he held up his left hand the Senior ring he'd rolled a drunken Senior for some two years ago was back on his ring finger and I rolled my eyes. "Typical, you two break up every two days." I pointed out and he narrowed his eyes.

"This time its done, she was fuckin' around on me while I was in jail, again!" He looked mad and I put the bottle of beer down on the table. "She was two timing you when you weren't, jails got nothing to do with it!" I narrowed my eyes.

"Ah... Shut the fuck up." Dallas nodded sharply while opening the front door and leaving with a slam. I couldn't suppress a laugh...


	8. Chapter 8

Both Tim and Curly had come home that night without a single scratch on either of them and tight lipped about where they had went, knowing better than to ask questions I just didn't say anything. The Fuzz never came around looking for either of them – so I didn't feel the need to go digging around for information either, not that I would've because I didn't much care what they got up to and they didn't much care what I got up to. It was a mutual understanding.

"Nightly double! Hell yeah!" I danced across the hallway shaking my head back and forth trying to pretend like I was cool. Curly raised his eyebrow at me and stared from his bedroom door frame and I stopped, grinning brightly at him. I was buzzing from the amount of alcohol I'd all ready drank through-out the afternoon. "I am not related to you." His voice rough when he turned back to the mirror combing more grease into his curls keeping them from his eyes.

"Nupe, we just came out of the same vagina on the same date." I sat down on his bed crossing my legs over one another, covering my mouth to see the look of disgust on his face. "Fuck off." He said quickly, shaking his head unpleased with the mental image that had seemed to have painted itself in his mind. "Nah." I brushed my fingers into my hair that was soft from being washed.

I wore the same jeans as I had on yesterday because I didn't do anything that had gotten them dirty, changed my shirt from a black t-shirt to a grey fitted tank top with thin straps – thin that my bra straps were visibly large then the tank tops straps...

"You're disgusting." He muttered before burping a long and loud burp and laughing about it, "Men." I rolled my eyes but couldn't hold a laugh back. I unfolded my jean jacket from my lap and pulled it on, fixing the collar. The nights were indeed chillier now that the colder seasons were setting in.

"Speak for yourself." Curly turned around, fixing his tight white t-shirt that you could clearly make out muscle lines – or fat rolls... "I wouldn't speak for you." I stood up, pushing him aside to look at myself in the mirror, brushing my hands down my sides, turning to the side.

My jean jacket use to be dark blue, but from the sun and bleach used on it to get blood stains out. It was now light blue and in some places white. I'd had this jacket since I was twelve. It defined me as a person – okay no it didn't but I just wanted to put that in.

"You forgot your eye makeup." Curly lit a cigarette and inhaled a long breath as I turned and glared at him. "I aint no tramp!" I snapped at him, I never wore make-up. Of any kind. I got a blessing somehow of decent skin and I looked kind of pretty without bright blue eye shadow and dark eyeliner.

"You two done bitchin'? Can we GO?" Tim had been standing by the door in jeans a white long sleeved shirt and a black leather vest over it, "Fuck yeah!" I put my fist into the air and smiled. Rolling his eyes Tim twisted his car keys around his finger. "Lets go." He cocked his head toward the door.

We shuffled out, in the living room were two other guys, they'd been sitting down but as soon as the three of us entered they stood up quickly, arms to the side like mini soldiers standing to the attention of their Captains.

Tim didn't speak to them, neither of us did as we walked outside of the house with them following, I got into the passenger seat of Tim's car as Curly and the other two got into the back and Tim – obviously getting into the drivers side of his rig.

The nighty double wasn't something we actually intended to see and go in to watch - nah hanging out, outside the theatre with the crew. We weren't the pay to go into something and watch it, we were to rowdy for that kind of thing.

Getting there didn't take to long, a lot of beat up cars and a lot of fancy cars were lined up to get into the nighty double, which one screen wasn't working, so it was just one movie; Beach blanket bingo, wonderful another beach movie. I was glad I had been drinking most of the evening.

A cigarette in my mouth, I exited Tim's now parked car which was parked along side the other beat up falling apart cars of people within the Shepard outfit, I walked around and lent against the fender of Tim's car, taking a long drag.

",'Sup Tim?" A tall sixteen year old came over from his car a beer in his hand, "yeah?" Tim turned his head expecting the boy to want something, it wasn't often younger members of the outfit conversed with Tim, they tended to leave it to the eighteen and nineteen year olds. "Caught a Soc up in our tracks this afternoon, cut him up real good." He smirked, proudly of himself in a way.

"Good job." Tim nodded sharply. "Fuckin' Socs..." He scoffed kicking a rock from the dirt. The sixteen year old looked like Christmas had come for him, the leader of his gang had told him good job. "Hey Leslie." A seventeen year old with blonde hair and brown eyes came to lean against the fender beside me and I turned my head partly.

"Hi Kyle." I kept casual, Kyle had been apart of the Shepard outfit since he was fourteen years old. One of the original members, good guy.

"D'you here Dally is outta the Cooler?" It seemed he thought he was spreading unknown news, like no one else but he was aware of it.

"Uh' yeah." I lent off the fender, looking my eyes looking forward and holding back a yawn. "Saw him this morning..." I gave a quick shrug and turned away, walking from him without another word.

That night drug out, slowly. I thought it would go quickly because of my half-drunken state and the high tension between the North and South side but not exactly. Everything seemed slow. Like the movie on the inside of the place was playing on slow mode. Like every clock was completely frozen to go forward one minute and back five.

"Fucking finally!" I called overjoyed by the fact the end credits were rolling, people were leaving and most of all. Listening to Tim bitching and swearing wildly about this tires being slashed up by Dallas Winston.

Curly saw him doing it but was to far away to do anything about it. Dallas just pulled out a blade and slashed the two back tires of Tim's car and took off – now Tim with that look of a hungry ally-cat was on a mission to beat the tar out of Dallas.

Personally, I just didn't give a fuck. Mainly because I knew Tim would lift tires from someone else's car for his own, he'd get Dallas back and by tomorrow afternoon they'd be sipping piss warm beers and smoking cheap cigarettes on my living room couch.

"Where you off to?" I turned my head Curly standing a few feet beside me,I raised my shoulders and let them fall back down to a normal position, before putting my hands into my jean jacket pockets. "Around, catch you later on." I nodded swiftly. Turning forward again walking out of the driveway along the grassy edge avoiding the cars taking off in different directions most of them half-drunk behind the wheel what a normal night.

"Awh Jesus Christ, look at what the trash left behind." I placed my pants on my hips and smirked watching Two-Bit turning around a filterless cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, a grin grew across his wide face.

"Didn't know you were here!" His voice cheerful and drunken as usual – but than again so was I so what could I complain? The drink always made things better. Especially on the nights that seemed never ending and not so much in a good way.

"And miss Beach Blanket Bingo? Awh'hell nah." I snapped my fingers and held back a laugh which didn't take to much effort when my eyes looked over Two-Bit's shoulder and the smirk on my face faded. "What the Hell?" I fought the urge to snap.

Social classes, Cherry and Marcia were standing some three feet behind Two-Bit with Ponyboy and Johnny. Two-Bit's fancier of Leather jackets draped over Marcia's shoulders as she held her arms tightly over her chest when a chilling wind blew through the trees that were dropping leaves.

Glancing behind him like he didn't know what I was talking about, his eyes widened and another infamous smirk appeared. "Jealous?" He wondered possibly trying to start something or just trying to have a laugh about it, but he stopped smirking when he saw how mad I really was getting.

"Hardly, you should know better. We don't want their kind on our side of the tracks, Two-Bit!" I gritted my teeth and stopped myself from continuing when the four behind him had gotten close enough to be in ear-shot.

I couldn't explain as to why I was real mad about it at the time. I think it might've been because a day after Ponyboy had been jumped – here half the crew was hanging out with two Social classes. Or maybe because I was having an off day OR my buzz was wearing off.

"Leslie! Hey, what's up!" Ponyboy smiled standing beside Cherry his eyes darting around nervously when each car passed by.

"The usual doom and gloom." I shrugged slipping my hands into my pockets, avoiding eye contact with Cherry and Marcia – Cherry especially as she seemed to have a staring problem with me, from the corner of my eye I could see her staring me up and down.

When Ponyboy went to open his mouth, he closed it again because Cherry parted her lips that were coated in ruby red lipstick [I could tell by the moons light.] "Hello Leslie." A sickish undertone hidden behind her overly preppy words.

"Sherri." I didn't look her in the eyes, just at her obscenely large nose and gave a curt head nod, before the tension seemed to rise.

Her friends may have called her Cherry because of her red hair, but I was not a friend. I was the farthest thing from her friend.

"Y'all know each other?" Two-Bit side glanced Cherry to me and back again but seemed to drop the subject when no one bothered answering.

"Are we heading the same way you are?" Ponyboy tilted his head in the direction it seemed we were both intending to walk in, but I felt the urge for a change.

I cleared my throat and turned to look behind me, "No actually I was heading that way, thought I saw a fight happening but no avail." I lied quickly.

"Oh." He seemed displeased. "Well... Maybe next time, we really need to hang out more." He nodded and let out a nervous laugh slipping his own hands into his jean pockets.

"Take care Leslie." Two-Bit could see maybe the anxious feeling I was getting from being stuck in a position I really didn't want to be stuck within.

"Maybe, catch you later!" I said quickly turning on the dirt and heading off toward the direction I really had no intention of going in, but I just could not stand being near Cherry right now.

Popping my collar on my jean jacker when the wind blew, I put my hands into my jean jacket pockets and it occurred to me. I hadn't spoken to Johnny while he was standing there with his large brown eyes.

I'd have to make it up to him, somehow anyways. More so because I felt like a slight jackass for not taking two seconds to say anything to the poor pet.

Maybe tomorrow?

When the night kept on going and I kept on walking I tilted my head toward the tree line – by tree line I meant two dead trees falling over in an empty field. A shadow behind one was gripping onto the tree and loud gasping breaths were coming from it.

Now, would this be the part in a movie when the stupid girl does ignore her gut feeling and waltz's right into a trap soon to be killed by their kidnapper? Or would this be the part in the movie with the girl does ignore her gut feeling only to find out nothing overly scary was going to occur?

Stepping closer to the trees from the gravel road I bit the corner of my lip before letting it go. "Hello? Possibly crazy murdering rapist...?" I sing-songed my voice like I was in my own person movie and viewers would watch and yell at the screen about how stupid I was being.

The heavy gasping stopped and the wind as if on cue started slowly rustling against the leaves still managing to hold onto the trees trying to drop them for the winter season.

I sure was just walking into this one wasn't I? "Do you need help finding your lost puppy? Or do you have free candy in an old rusted white van with no windows parked up the darkened street so I can't see it and suspect anything?" I asked now staying still on the spot.

Nothing.

Not a single sound or noise from what was something – or someone breathing deeply moments before. Maybe I had blown their cover and they'd taken off into the night? Oh Lordly I really was wearing off the booze. My mind was screwing around with me. Leading me to believe I needed a much wanted rest – I just hoped this rest wouldn't involve the back of the shagged carpet van that smelled like cat pee...

My body jumped and I let out a loud echoing scream that seemed to continue going long after my voice stopped through the cleared out field. Something had grabbed onto my sides and were holding me close against them in a tight embrace. "I DONT WANT YOUR CANDY!" I attempted to twist myself around in the darkness.

When they didn't let go, I did start to panic. "You don't want my candy?" They asked and their grip loosened. The few inches I was held off the ground disappeared and my feet hit the dirt. I turned my body around to face who ever had just done this to me while taking a step back nearly tripping.

"DALLAS!" I yelled brining both my arms up and down at him but he seemed to second guess my movements and blocked my arms. "YOU ARE A FUCKING JACK ASS KNOB EATER!" I went to kick him but he moved back.

"Jesus, you are a cray nut bar!" His voice stressed. "Your brother just put a pounding on me, take it easy!" I listened to the hiss of a match being lit and a cigarette lighting up, the small flicker of light, lit his face.

"You deserved it and you deserve what you get off me! That was uncalled for!" I pulled my tank top down which had risen above my belly button. Huffing at him. My cheeks went warm.

"You really did walk into it, man." Dallas pointed out the ember of the cigarette obviously in his hand bounced around the moon was hidden behind clouds.

"I..Ye...Maybe... Shut up!" I glared though I soon realized he couldn't see it in the darkness. "I said I didn't want your candy or to help you find your lost puppy. I could've killed you." I pointed out raising my finger that came in contact with his chest.

"What are you doing so far out into the country side man?" He changed the subject and I shifted my weight from my right to my left foot and back before answering.

"Taking a stroll. Tim beat you real good?" I wondered thinking back to the slashed tires and Dallas scoffed

"We had it out, s'done deal." He said while inhaling his smoke. "Heading over to Bucks – party going on. You fancy on joining?"

"- What to watch overly rich housewives who are desperately unsatisfied with their husbands flaunt themselves over you?" I tried to sound annoyed but hadn't been around Creepy Ol' Bucks in a long while.

Tim tried to stop me hanging out around there a couple of times but soon realized he was dealing with a younger version of himself who always rebelled against the word of an elder.

"Exactly." He nodded and I could tell because the clouds had uncovered half the round moon above.

"Might as well, got nothing better to do. S'gonna be one of them nights where nothing really good happens... No exciting to see." I started walking when he did, heading up the road toward Buck Merril's place where all the scum of the North Side thirty years old and up seemed to hang out.

"Scared you, didn't I?" I could tell Dallas was smirking now as we walked to the land marker of lights coming from the house meters away.

"Shut up." I said darkly.


	9. Chapter 9

The music was playing as loudly as the drunken mess of people playing cards and betting on late nigh horse races from the television set that rested on top of an old broken fridge in the corner of the room spoke.

The smell from a thousand different alcohols and different cigarette brands was enough to choke a person if they too to deep of a breath.

Bucks place really did attract the scum of the town who were to old to hang around the gangs – because if they did hang around with the gangs they would've called creeps. [Though I am fairly sure most of them were just that, creeps.]

Each and every bar stool, broken chair and ripped couch were occupied by different body types and the only thing similar to each of them was their drunken state and gambling addictions.

I was some glad to walk into that place with Dallas. I was being ogled like the last pork chop at a supper table filled with rabid starving men.

Sure I could have [and would have] taken out any man in this place, but it made me feel uncomfortable the way drool dripped down the corner of their mouths and their eyes found a permanent fixed place upon my chest – or lack of chest there was, not that they seemed to mind either way...

But that fraction of a second when they'd look away and up to Dallas who had that serious look upon his face – the look that seemed to make the seventeen year old by a senior figure to most of the men who'd been married and started families years before he was even born, nod understandingly and look away without a second glance.

"Creeps." I pulled the two pieces of my unbuttoned jacket closer towards me and turned to see Dallas making eye contact with Buck holding a bottle of Whiskey in his fat fist. "Relax, I got you." Dallas casually slipped his arm around my shoulders making a few of the ladies look unpleased with me.

I wanted to laugh, something about possibly married woman in their thirties looking so desperate for attention from a younger man was priceless for me.

"Quit touching." I hissed but got shushed when Buck came to stand in front of Dallas, ",'Sup buddy?" His words slurred as his eyes tried to focus on the teenager standing a few inches taller then he did. "Hey man- Shepard and I got into it a little while ago, alright if I cool off and get some sleep here?"

Buck tried to look like he was thinking about it, but half the money Buck ever made was because of Dallas' jockeying skills and ways of the world so Buck would never deny him anything, ",'course." He gestured to the stairs without another word.

His eyes were looking over me, I could tell he was trying to put a name to the face but was to drunk to do it. I was partly glad. Buck and I never did really get along with one another, mainly because it was a freak at most. He wasn't to keen on Shepard's either... But right now he couldn't tell left from right and I just looked like another piece of meat in Dallas Winston's clutches.

Because I realized I was being ushered up the cracking wooden steps of the stairs.

Inside the bedroom that had a slopped ceiling, ugly colour wall paper, old rusted single beg on a frame and a dresser with more clothes out of it then in it I pulled my jacket off letting it hit the carpeted ground and crawled onto the bed yawning – though I had no intention of falling asleep anywhere near Buck's property.

"Whoa, dude..." I said quickly seeing Dallas pulling his leather jacket off with his white T-shirt tossing both of them onto the dresser.

My mind went somewhere it should not have because I knew Dallas wouldn't even remotely try to have sex with me [you know – again...] I shook the thought I was thinking and could make out the red fist marks around his ribs and kidneys. "Tim?" I felt the need to ask despite knowing the incoming answer.

"Yeah, man." His silver flattened coin looking necklace dangling midair as he pulled his cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He seemed to ignore my mini freak out as to why his clothes were coming off.

When I looked around the room, I cold feel the vibrations of the music and movement from the floor below.

"Red head Sherri was with Pony, Johnny and Two-Night at the movies tonight." I wanted to stomp that redhead like a bug.

"Mmm-hmm. She tossed a coke at me." I could tell he was thinking about her while he lit up another smoke and I closed my eyes trying to imagine being somewhere else. The house was warm but with all the drafts it was also chillingly cold.

I held back another yawn by biting the whole of my lower lip and muttered something under my breath the night surely did go from being lame to lamer.

My fingers played with my tank top and bra strap as Dallas pace the room smoking and flicking his ashes into a white plastic ash tray.

Piece of me wondered the damage Dallas may have done to Tim but another piece knew a skin on skin fight was a fair deal. Tim was a big boy he could indeed take cake of himself.

"Did you and Sylvia work it out again?" As I looked at the wall I asked, mainly because I was to lazy to look at his hand to see if the ring was still on his finger or not.

"Nah man we're done." He nodded looking all business about it. I wondered if I was more like Dallas than I originally suspected. What I meant by that was we seemed to share a lot of the same views on things and I was still learning what views they were. But yet we didn't agree on a lot of things either.

I had thought the night to be boring when I resorted in asking about his love life. "You still sleeping about with what's-his-name?" Dallas asked.

"What's-his-name, if that isn't the best description of a person I really have no idea what is." I smirked when he stuck me the middle finger and exhaled a bunch of smoke rings from his mouth.

I went to laugh but didn't hearing a knocking at the door of the bedroom. "Dally kids hanging 'round outside for you say they need'a see you something bad... Johnny and a Ponyboy." Bucks voice boomed.

My eyes and Dallas' connected a worry in my own and a confused curiosity in his. Knowing full well it must have been something awfully bad if they were coming to Dallas at Buck's place. I remembered Darry once chewing a strip off Ponyboy about ever setting foot near Buck's property.

"Shoot son." I whispered to myself as Dallas didn't need telling twice and off down the stairs he went coughing and hacking up something that sounded rather unpleasing.

My mind started racing what was going on? Why were those two this far our in the North side noticing it was nearing three o'clock in the morning made me worry more when I rubbed my eyes. Turning on my side still laying on the bed as the door opened again.

"Awh hell what's going on?" I asked seeing Ponyboy soaking wet and shivering with Johnny beside him pinching his lower lip between his left hands thumb and index fingers.

"Johnny killed a Soc." Dallas said hardly, "Pony take that shirt off!' Dallas tossed him a towel as he sat down on the edge of the bed. I went from laying down to sitting up. "What?" My eyes went wide looking at Johnny.

Sweet, little, kind – lost puppy Johnny.

"I dunno what to do!" Ponyboy was holding back tears while he dried his hair quickly with the towel. "Its big but its dry." Dallas tossed one of Buck's plaid shirts at him. "They were drowning me! Johnny saved my life!" Ponyboy quivered.

"Oh hell." My hand covered my mouth sliding across the bed, my hands touching Ponyboy's bare shoulders rubbing them carefully while I looked at Johnny who seemed to scared to move.

"We knew if anyone could help us it wold be you Dal." Johnny finally spoke looking at the oldest man teenager for guidance as he kept moving around the small room.

"-You got that right kid." Dallas opened a dresser and I moved my hands away from Ponyboy's cold skill while he pulled the shirt on.

"Fuck." I cursed to myself, maybe I should've walked when them tonight. Leave it to the two most undeserving kids to get stuck in this kind of situation.

"Do Soda and Darry know about this?" I wondered but seemed to know the answer before Ponyboy started shaking his head quickly.

"Well I ain't itching to tell your brothers and getting my head kicked in!" Dallas' voice was sharp and dark now.

"So don't tell him!" Ponyboy raised his voice.

The room filled with a unsettled silence.

"Here." Dallas held a gun out to Johnny who hesitated for a minute before taking his with shaking hands. "It's loaded, don't point it at me!" He said sharply turning and sitting down on the bed making it sink in with the weight of three people on it.

Putting it into his pocket, Johnny went back to chewing on his finger nail. Black eyes darting around nervously. "Hey, listen to me." Dallas reached out taking a hold of Johnny's jean jacket and pulling him closer to the bed.

"You'll be okay." I caught Ponyboy's eyes who was really trying not to cry anymore. He nodded but I knew he didn't believe me.

"Here's the plan." Dallas caught everyone's attention. "Catch the Three-Fifteen freight to Windrixville, there's an abandoned church on the top of Jay Mountain -" He stopped himself. With a wad of Cash in his hands I watched Dallas pulling out two twenty and a ten dollar bill. "Fifty bucks." He stuffed it into Johnny's jacket pocket. "Get a weeks supply of food, as soon as you get there, this morning before the story gets out."

The two boys looked incredibly nervous. "I can't go with you-" - "I will." I found myself cutting Dallas off without thinking.

All eyes came on me. I looked forward and not at anyone. "I know Windrixville, I know the store – I know the mountain." I lied. I had no idea where any of it was. But I didn't want the two of them going alone.

"Leslie, no way man..." Dallas shook his head. Waving me off and I narrowed my eyes.

"Dallas come on, they're just kids..." I said sharply and I hoped they wouldn't have taken offence to that. "What are the Fuzz gonna do? They're gonna haul you in first and then coming looking for the Shepard's. When ones missing – they'll be looking for me not those two." I pointed two fingers at Ponyboy and Johnny.

"I'd like if you came." Ponyboy looked at me and I nodded watching Dallas getting up, handing Ponyboy a big leather jacket and I rubbed my forehead this really was an information overload.

"Then I'm coming." I pulled myself off the bed that squeezed in response.

"There's a pump well behind the church, don't worry about water." Dallas continued seemingly approving of my going now. "When you get your supplies, don't you stick your noses out the door! I'll be up when the heats off." He brought a match to his coin necklace and lit the smoke in his mouth.

"And I thought New York was the only place I'd find myself in a murder-rap." He let the smoke from his lungs.

"We should get going if we wanna make it to the train station before the freight leaves." I looked to the clock reading three-oh-seven. "We're gonna have to book it." I pulled my jean jacket on.

At the time I never really had the chance to think to myself why was I getting involved? This was a murder, not a beat-down gone bad. But a murder.

Now I think it was because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something had happened to either Ponyboy or Johnny out there while I sat home doing nothing.

Maybe there was a different reason, I'd just have to ask myself later on.

But for now here I was. Leslie Shepard running off to another town with two teenaged boys who'd got themselves into major trouble.


	10. Chapter 10

Dallas walked us downstairs, on the porch, we were standing together, Ponyboy and Johnny had walked a few feet into the distance of the train-yard, I turned my head looking at Dallas. "You sure this is a good idea?" I asked him seriously, making his eyes look down to me from Johnny and Ponyboy who moved slowly.

"No." He said seriously, "but I do know, if they're anywhere around here man, they wont last long." He pointed out the obvious. I had to nod to agree with him. "And it is the best plan we've got on short notice." He tagged on.

"Well, alright." I slipped the tops of my fingers into my jeans front pockets, biting the corner of my lip. "Don't tell Tim or Curly anything." I found myself saying without thinking, making his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

I half shrugged unsure of what to say to my pervious statement. "What exactly do I tell them than?" Dallas asked, crossing his arms over his chest, holding onto his biceps. "Nothing, but if you have too, make up a story - Dallas, you're good at that." I pointed out, he kind of grinned but it was a half-grin, the grin he put on when he didn't know how something was going to turn out.

"Be careful." He said seriously, "you might think you're invisible but you are fifteen, not that age has anything to do with anything! But, just be careful." He finished.

"Oh relax, I can handle my self." I flashed a tiny smile, patting the side of his arm before I turned, walking off the porch quickly, running across the field to catch up with Ponyboy and Johnny.

And from then on, not a word was spoke except a few, one words as we climb onto the freights car, hid from the yard-workers checking the cars for rail-riders - They didn't catch us. We sat down against the back of the car.

The long whistle whined as the train started to rattle around, slowly we started moving, slowly everything started become even realer. We were actually on our way to hide out a murder. My hands were flat against the cars floor, my back against the wall. Slowly rocking back and forth with the movements of the train, the darkness. I wasn't as tired as I thought I would be.

You don't really know speechless until you have to sit through three hours of silence after someone has committed a murder. I bit the corner of my lip, looking up as we crossed over a bridge. I peaked over the open sides, seeing the rocks and the shallow water below. The mist hung high in the early morning sky.

Pastel pink and purple colours of the sky was mixing with blue and silver clouds, to conceal the sun that was starting to rise up in the Eastern horizon - it looked like a still photograph or a painted picture. It was calm and still, everything was perfect - well it should've been according to that amazing sunrise starting.

I personally saw nothing amazing about it, but then I didn't much enjoy the simpler finer things in life. "Wake up, Pony." I said softly, my hand touching his shoulder shaking him lightly - the only one of us who managed to fall asleep.

"We there?" He asked in a tired tone. "Almost, we gotta jump." I pushed myself up against the cars wall, standing, I held my hand out for Ponyboy who'd sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He reached up, taking my hand and I stepped back pulling him up with an ease.

"Ready, on three we go." Johnny said standing at the edge of the open box car, watching the tracks and open fields passing us by, it didn't seem so fast, but they were passing by quicker than we knew.

"Three." Johnny said skipping one and two without notice, I felt myself airborne for a fraction of a moment, before inhaling sharply when I landed side first into the ground, the cold dew was like a sharp slap across the face.

I kept my eyes closed for a moment as the impact feeling of hard Earth disappeared from my body. Opening my eyes I looked around, I could see Ponyboy laying beside me rubbing his eyes and face of the same dew.

Turning over I pushed myself up brushing my hands against my arms, "right, lets go." I muttered starting to walk upwards on the hill over the long grass before seeing a dirt path and changed where I was walking.

I turned to glance behind myself, seeing Ponyboy and Johnny following behind not to far back. They were both looking forward with their hands in their jeans. Turning on my heel, I waited for them, we still didn't speak as we walked in a flanking line.

Getting the the Church seemed to take hours upon hours. But really it was probably only forty-five minutes not including the time we lost making Ponyboy go ask a Framer for help.

"This is the Church." Johnny pointed out in a rather low voice as we all stood looking at the old Church that had a slight lean to the left.

I felt like making some kind of comment about seeing another other churches around but I kept that to myself. Just to keep things simpler, plus I knew it wasn't the time. My fingers felt half numb when I helped pull some plywood off a boarded up back exit.

"Home sweet home." Ponyboy had said stepping into the Church that looked exactly like that - a church, old pews with spider-webs and a podium where I assume the Preacher gave summons on a concrete level a few inches higher off the ground than the pews. Old stove in the centre of the room to keep the place warm. All in all I guess it looked Churchy? - Personally I had never been inside a Church, not my type of thing.

Finding a place on the ground I cleared my throat by have coughing, it felt like I had a cold coming on, but it was just from lack of sleep. I yawned and I lent back against the wooden wall that squeaked. Pulling my knees up against my chest and I crossed my arms, resting my head against my shoulder, I didn't think I'd drift off as quickly as I did. But before I could protest it - or even realize, the darkness had taken me over…

… Half of me expected to turn over in my bed but I remembered where I had gone, I sat up straighter and opened my eyes quicker, looking widely around. "What the…" I muttered to myself, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I could've turned over in the dirt I was sitting on and pass back out, but the blur that became clear presented me when Johnny who stood tilting his head at me.

His thumbs hooked in his jean pockets, he made sure we had eye contact before he cocked his head toward the door we had made however long ago, before he took small steps to walk outside. I pushed myself to stand and my legs that were half asleep didn't much like that, but who really cared about legs anyways?

"What the hell?" I asked him as we stood outside, the sun was higher up in the sky that was now just different shades of blue. "Supplies." He said factually. "Oh right." I clued in, man I really was tired, possibly hung-over?

Walking down the hill I had walked up with just Johnny was a different feeling and I couldn't exactly explain it either, I was just to tired, but how many times did you have to hear that? "You know the store?" Johnny asked half-way down the mountain and I bit the inside of her cheek, ",'course." I lied smoothly, how many stores could there possibly be in Windrixville?

The silence remained the same all the way down the side of the mountain, I'm sorry but it wasn't a real blast - it was more, 'Oh jeez I hope The Fuzz don't bust us.' kind of time, you dig? We didn't talk about to much, in fact it was rather… Eery.

But I couldn't help myself when I opened my mouth and said; "Kinda feels like you don't know exactly how to feel right? I mean you feel bad 'cause you hurt someone but at the same time you know you did it for the right reasons - to protect someone and you can't quite figure out how to feel, right?" I stopped myself and I side glanced Johnny who had stopped walking and his eyes had widened just a little bigger then they had been before.

I shifted to put my hands into my jean pockets and we continued walking down the hill, I didn't say anything and Johnny never said anything until;

"The store." I raised my Index finger to point at the only thing not dirt, grass or a half dead bush for kilometres. "Oh good." Johnny said brushing his fingers into his black greased hair, "my feet hurt." He admitted as the two of us got closer to the tiny, tiny store on a dirt road big enough for one car.

There were power lines around here, but they seemed to go a long, long time without being connected to a house, how did this store survive? I would've been pissed if we got to the front door and it was boarded up with 'Abandoned' written across it. But no, thankfully we were greeted with an 'Open' sign. I opened the screen door and let Johnny go in first. Our sneakers made hollow stepping sounds on the stores wooden paint chipped floor.

"Good morning!" The cheerful shop-keep smiled at us and I flashed a quickly smile at him as Johnny and I ducked into an aisle. "Bread?" I said grabbing two loaves of it, "chocolate bars." Johnny picked up several of them,

"peanut butter." I picked up a jar of that. We grabbed some-more chocolate bars and put them down on the counter. Johnny disappeared again. "A feast." The shop-keep said, he was an older man with silver-reseeding hair and large glasses and I smiled again. "Naturally." I had to remind myself, no one knew me around here. Around here I wasn't a Shepard. I wasn't anybody and it felt … Kind of good.

"Where y'all from, don't think I've been you around these parts." He grabbed a box to put the vast amount of supplies in as Johnny returned with stacks of bologna. "Uh' Texas." I smiled, "visiting our aunt." I exhaled. "Oh, I see! Oh I think Maybelle did say her nephew and niece was going to visit soon! Are you related to Maybelle?" He asked.

I could feel Johnny fidget nervously while he added some peroxide to the mix, which I didn't pay attention too. "Yup! Maybelle!" I nodded, knowing at any moment this little made up story could crumble into a million little pieces.

The man smiled, pleased with himself he got it right, he packed out stuff into an air pop popcorn box as he rung it up at the same time and I'd stopped paying attention again, I turned to the side glancing around the shop once more, he spoke but I wasn't listening.

"Ready?" Johnny asked lowly holding the box in his arms, I hadn't even realized he paid, "oh? Yeah..." I walked to the exit with him and held the door for him as he walked out. "Bye now!" The shop-keep said with a smile.

"Bye." I said flashing him another slightly forced smile and disappeared out the screen door with Johnny.

Be instantly became silent again, it was starting to become a routine a routine that made things drag out for a very long time, the walk back seemed six times longer then the walk to the small store had been.

The entire time we walked, I tried to have a conversation with myself in my head like I could usually do... But no avail this time, distraction kept setting in. I exhaled gladly when the church came back into view.

My lips curved into a perfect 'O' shape as my tongue touched the back of my front bottom teeth, I inhaled through my nose before I exhaled in a long low whistle before ending off with a sharp high note.

The two of us paused and I glanced at Johnny when we didn't hear anything back at first, until a long three seconds passed and the whistle was returned. We continued into the church.

"Hey." Ponyboy broke the silence between all three of us now and I looked at him. "Hi." I said as Johnny put the box down on the table, which he refused to let me carry at all the entire way back.

"Went okay, I assume." Ponyboy looked over Johnny's shoulder into the box pulling bread and peanut butter out.

"I think we did good." Johnny finally spoke putting bologna and chocolate bars down beside the bottle of coke.

"Gone with the wind!" Ponyboy exclaimed holding the paper back book with pages almost pink. "I remember you mentioned it, thought it could pass the time." Johnny only have forced a smile looking at Ponyboy who flipped the pages quickly, putting it down on the small table with a smile. "Thanks Johnny." He said.

I yawned and stumbled my way eyes half closed to the back of the church, stepping out the hole filled door. "Wake up... Come on." I slapped my face back and forth with my hands, must not sleep... I told myself, before yawning again and leaning back against the old wood, "just a minute." I closed my eyes still standing up...


End file.
